Despair and Deliverance
by wingsofenbarr
Summary: Ziva has a traumatic encounter with her father and turns to Tony for comfort. Complications ensue. TIVA. Warning: While everything that happens is totally consensual the flavor in one of the *steamy* parts might bother some people.
1. Chapter 1

Tony glanced sideways at Ziva as he drove her back to her apartment. She was still sitting motionless, her hands limp in her lap and her eyes staring sightlessly out the windshield. She had not spoken a word since they'd left the warehouse on the waterfront. Not one word since she had turned to Gibbs and, in the deadest voice Tony had ever heard, told him that her father had planned to kill her if she wouldn't agree to go home with him.

That was not the way the operation had been planned. When the NSA had told Vance that they were hearing whispers about the Mossad planning a kidnapping on American soil, they had known immediately that it probably involved Ziva. Since her rescue in Somalia, the only direct communication Ziva had had with her father was to tell him that she was relinquishing her Israeli citizenship in favor of remaining in the States and joining NCIS as a full fledged agent. No one had believed it would end there. Eli David was not the sort of man to let his daughter walk away that easily. The whole team knew that it was only a matter of time before he made some sort of move to get her back, and they knew he would not care whether or not Ziva was a willing participant in his designs.

What they hadn't anticipated was that Eli himself would take part in the operation. Vance's plan had been to let Eli's agents make a grab for Ziva and then, when there was enough evidence to prove their intent, Gibbs' and the rest of the team would step in to foil the kidnapping attempt. Careful surveillance and Ziva's knowledgeable cooperation should have rendered the plan almost foolproof and provided Vance and SecNav with the embarrassing ammunition they needed to put Eli out of business.

All their carefully laid plans had gone awry when it was Eli himself who had confronted Ziva in the warehouse on the dock. They would never know exactly what had gone on in there after Ziva had disabled the surveillance links and left the team in the dark. Ziva's comment to Gibbs was the only clue they had and, if nothing else, it surely indicated that the experience had been a traumatic one for her.

With Gibbs' gut instincts working overtime, they had surged into the warehouse only to find one Mossad agent bleeding and unconcious on the floor and Ziva standing over her father, her Sig held loosely in her hand. Eli was unharmed except for a flesh wound but Ziva seemed nearly catatonic with shock. She had allowed Gibbs to remove the gun from her hand and stood motionless as he embraced her.

"It's over now," Gibbs assured her. "It's over and you're safe with friends. Whatever happened can be worked out." Gibbs patted her back once more and then stepped away, her face held gently between his hands. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Ziva finally looked him in the eye. "I thought I could handle it," she said in a monotone, "but then he offered me a choice - go home or die. My father gave me that choice and I could see in his eyes that he meant it." Speaking that much seemed to exhaust the last of her reserves and Ziva slumped against Gibbs and went silent.

Gibbs looked over her shoulder at Tony. "She's had about all she can take. Get her out of here and take her home. Any questions can wait until tomorrow." He gave Tony an piercing glance and added in a soft voice, "don't leave her alone."


	2. Chapter 2

If Tony had had any doubts about the state Ziva was in, they would have been dispelled when she didn't protest as he wrapped an arm around her and guided her to his car. Like a ragdoll, she allowed him to place her in the front seat and didn't respond to any of the clownish comments he threw her way in an attempt to rouse a response. Eventually even he ran out of inspiration and the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

Once they arrived at her apartment and Tony guided her through the front door, Ziva shrugged him off and headed for her bedroom, closing the door in Tony's face when he tried to follow her. Mindful of Gibbs' instructions, Tony stationed himself outside her bedroom door, periodically pressing his ear to the wood in an attempt to hear what she was doing inside. Tony had to work hard to control his impatience when twenty minutes went by without a single sound. He had expected to hear her cry, or even more likely, rage and throw things, but there had been nothing. Finally, his hand crept to the knob and he eased the door barely open, expecting to find Ziva asleep but needing to check in order to ease his concerns.

Tony panicked for a moment when his gaze fell on Ziva's empty bed. Then he heard a soft rustle from down on the floor and lowered his gaze to find Ziva sitting there, her back resting against the bed, legs drawn up and her face buried in in her knees. She must of sensed his presence because she raised her head and looked at him. Her eyes were dry, but the desolation they contained made Tony's gut clench in anguish. The look she gave him was that of an animal, caged and tortured until it could stand no more. It was a look of pure desperation and defeat.

Tony did not wait for an invitation. He threw open the door and strode across the room, sliding down to the floor next to her and gathering her stiff form into his arms.

"Ziva, for God's sake, cry already. Or yell," he coaxed her. "Heck, I won't even care if you want to hit me as long as it makes you feel better."

It was to no avail. Even his last comment failed to provoke her. She simply sat there, neither resisting nor responding, her body stiff in his arms.

He tried again. "Ziva, I know you're hurting but you have to let it out. Do something, anything, but let it out before it kills you."

She finally raised her head and looked at him. Something primal flashed in her eyes and then, before Tony could react, her mouth was on his and she was kissing him, holding him desperately, as if she was drowning and he was her only source of air. Tony was too shocked to help himself. Despite all of his best intentions, his body responded and before he could decide what to do, he found himself kissing her back with an intensity that almost matched her own.


	3. Chapter 3

For several long moments, Tony gave in to his basic impulses. His whole self seemed focused on the feel of Ziva's hungry lips against his own and the weight of her body pressed desperately against him. Then the thought of Gibbs intruded into his brain. Gibbs - who had told him to take care of her. Gibbs - who would be furious if he could see just what a mess Tony was making of that duty. Tony pulled away and brought his hands up to cup Ziva's face and make sure she was looking at him.

"Ziva, this is wrong. You don't know what you're doing and I won't take advantage of you this way."

She just stared at him, that desperate look still in her eyes. "Help me, Tony ... please," she said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. "I need you ... I need _this. _Please, help me."

Her plea was so heartfelt it seemed to come from the very core of her being and it made Tony remembered a conversation he once had with Ducky. He had asked the medical examiner and forensic psychologist why so many people used sex to deal with trauma and death.

"For many people, sex is the ultimate affirmation of life. When faced with a significant loss, it can be a way to remind one's self that life goes on," the older man had explained.

"That can't be healthy," Tony had objected.

"Surprisingly, Tony, it often is. The act of love can take you outside yourself, lift you above your current problems, perhaps even provide a respite from them. It reminds you that whatever else might have happened, you yourself are still alive. There is also a medical reason for it. Sex releases endorphins, the body's natural pain killers and mood elevators. Strangely enough, engaging in physical relations during a time of crisis can be a form of self medication and an entirely healthy response."

Tony made a snap decision. Maybe Ziva was right, maybe this was exactly what she needed. Besides, he was too afraid that if he did not give it to her she would insist on going out and finding someone who would, and the consequences of that might be disastrous. Far, far in the back of his mind he also acknowledged that it would not be a hardship to go along. Despite their often contentious relationship, Tony had always been attracted to his partner, and the evidence of that was currently straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Never letting his eyes wander from hers, Tony used one hand to brush the hair from Ziva's face, running his hand through her tangled curls and gathering them at the back of her neck. Then he bent over and kissed her forehead. Moving lower, he brushed his lips against first one eye than the other, causing her to close them. With a gentle exhalation, he brought his mouth to hers and kissed her again, trying all the while to will his life and strength into her, as if the kiss was a form of resuscitation. _Gently, _he thought, _I will go slowly and gently and give her no reason to regret this once she has recovered._


	4. Chapter 4

_Authors Note: I know I switched to Ziva's point of view here but I felt that was the best way to make sure it was clear that what comes later is HER idea._

Ziva tried to drift away as Tony continued his gentle ministrations, controlling himself, refusing to give way to the passion that she could feel rising within him, but it wasn't working. Suddenly she pulled away, frustrated that she was not finding the release she craved.

"I don't want it like this," she said. "This isn't what I need right now."

Tony shook his head in confusion but stood up and backed away, nonetheless. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I didn't mean to push you. I thought you wanted ..." His voice trailed off as he tried to process her sudden change of mind.

Ziva wasn't sure exactly what she meant herself, but she knew that she didn't want him to leave. Roughly, she reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him down beside her once again. She threaded her free hand tightly into his hair and used it to hold him still as she bent forward to kiss him again. The kiss turned the corner from merely deep to downright rough when she caught his lower lip between her teeth, hard enough to cause him to wince in surprise. Ziva drew away then and stared at him, her pupils dilated with passion.

"I do not want nice. I do not want gentle," she said, almost pleading with him. "I need you to take me ... do you understand what I mean." She tried to communicate her desires with her eyes, finding it hard to do so in words. "I need you to force me ... to force me outside of myself. Can you do that? Can you give that to me?"

Tony stared at her, a conflicted look on his face. Ziva tried once more to show him what she wanted and to show him that she meant it. She claimed his mouth with a kiss again, grasping his shoulders hard enough that even through the fabric of his shirt, her nails left small red marks in his skin. Tony tried to pull away but she just dug her nails in harder, forcing him to feel what she wanted. Hoping he would understand her desires.

Finally Tony managed to extricate himself from her frenzied embrace. He gazed at her long and hard. Just when she though he was going to walk away in disgust, he grabbed her wrists and pushed her down onto the bed, pinning her arms above her head in an iron grip and leaning over her, his face so close to her own that she could feel the hot puffs of his now accelerated respirations.

"Is this what you really want?" he asked, his eyes boring into her. "You'd better be sure because once I start I don't know if I will be able to stop again."

Ziva felt as though all the air had left the room. It was what she wanted but she could barely find the breath to speak. "Yes," was all she finally managed, but it was enough. Tony's eyes darkened with a passion that matched her own as he ripped her blouse open, bent over her, and claimed a breast with lips and teeth.

_I should never have waited so long for this,_ thought Ziva as the the sensations Tony was generating washed over and through her. Then all coherent thought fled and she gave herself over to the moment.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Back to Tony's POV for the heavy dose of smut before we move on to more serious stuff. Oh, you don't read it for the smut? Yeah, well, my boyfriend says he'd love hockey just as much even if they didn't have fights but I don't believe him either._

Even after he had pinned her to the bed, Tony was not sure he was going to go through with it. He had always pictured himself more Cary Grant than Marlon Brando, yet here he was behaving like anything but the smooth ladies man he pretended to be.

His mental movie ramblings didn't distract him for long. One look down at Ziva, where she lay flushed and disheveled on the bed, and the only part of his brain left functioning was some instinctive animal core. Ziva's final "yes" destroyed whatever control he had left and suddenly the view he had of her smooth neck and flushed face was not enough. Without thinking he tore her blouse away, buttons flying everywhere, and buried his face against her chest.

After exploring first one breast and then the other, he worked his way up to her neck, sucking and biting, suddenly eager to leave his mark on her. Her breathy cries as he used his teeth only further inflamed him. Finally, he returned to her mouth, crushing her back into the bed as he probed ever deeper with his tongue. He reveled in the feel of her struggling underneath him, her every movement making him harder and hotter.

Still holding her down with one hand he pulled back slightly and fumbled for the button on her pants. As soon as it was undone he pushed her pants down, not pausing to undo the zipper even when he felt the rough seams catch and scrape against her hips. As soon as her jeans were off, he slid his hand between her legs. God, she was so wet. He thought briefly about slowing things down but at the feel of his fingers against her sex, Ziva moaned and pushed up towards him. All shreds of control gone, Tony thrust two fingers inside her and ground his thumb against her clit.

Ziva gasped at the sudden intrusion of his hand and started to squirm away, but his free hand was tangled in her hair and he used it to hold her. She quickly adjusted, pulling him close as he thrust his fingers deep inside her. By now, their gyrations had moved them partially off the bed and Ziva was clinging to his shoulders for support. As her excitement peaked, it was Tony's turn to gasp in shock as she raked his back with her nails, drawing blood. Tony reared back, releasing her hair and pulling her back onto the bed before he pinned her there with his forearm pressed across her chest and neck. As lost in the frenzy as he was, Ziva's reaction was to bring her head up and bite down on his arm.

The pain of Ziva's bite acted on Tony like a bucket of water, bringing him to his senses in an instant. He looked down in horror to where he had his previously traumatized, naked partner pinned to the bed in something close to a choke hold. A wave of disgust rolled over him and he asked himself how he could have let this happen.

Ziva sensed his withdrawal and released his arm to hiss at him. "Don't. Stop."

But Tony looked away, unable to meet her eyes, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Sex might be a healthy antidote to loss, but this ... this could not possibly be any sort of cure. How could anything so primal, almost violent, be helpful at a time like this. He released Ziva and rolled over onto his back beside her, scrubbing his hand across his face in dismay.

Ziva raised herself up onto an elbow and stared down, easily reading the withdrawal written on his face. She let her breath out with a soft huff, then finally spoke. "Tony, I want it like this. I want something to shut off the voices in my head. I do not want a seduction, that would require thought and, right now, thinking is the last thing I want to do. It is the last thing I can afford to do."

She didn't wait for an answer. One of her hands went to his fly, unzipping him and releasing his erect cock. She wrapped her hand around him, keeping her pressure just short of painful, and ran her thumb across the already glistening head. Tony drew his breath in sharply. His mind might not be totally willing, but his body was obviously still going along with the scenario. That fact was what finally let him see why Ziva wanted what she did. Why, more than anything, she needed a way to get out of her own headspace and this ... this _battle _they were engaged in let her strip everything back to instinct and sensation. He still had his doubts but at least he knew the _why._

Which was a good thing because as soon as Tony turned his head to look back at Ziva, she released his cock and brought her hand to her mouth, sliding her thumb between her swollen lips and sighing as she tasted him on her fingers. The sight nearly undid him. Sitting up, she swung a leg over him and paused for a moment, straddling him before she eased herself down. Suddenly he was inside her, his full length embraced by her hot, moist heat, and Tony could think no more. Ziva bent over him, her wild curls falling a curtain around his face.

"Take me, Tony," she whispered in a husky voice. And Tony did.

He flipped her over roughly and thrust into her, conscious only of her moans and the hot, slick feel of her. He hooked an arm under her leg and lifted it higher, opening her to him even more. She clung to him, whispering "harder" in his ear, biting his neck and digging her nails into his back. He returned the favor, moving a hand to her breast and pinching and twisting her nipple until she gasped in both pleasure and pain. There was no finesse, no possibility for control in their coupling, yet they came together with such an explosion that Tony could have sworn he felt the earth move beneath them.

_A/N: I may get very busy with RL for the next few days so don't desert me if I don't post the next installment right away. We will now be getting into the heart of the story so bear with me - I'll try to make it worth your while._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this up but take heart, it's the longest chapter yet. Expect more in a few days._

It was quite a while before Tony recovered enough to take stock of the situation. When his breathing returned to normal and he finally felt like he was inhabiting his own body again, he looked down at Ziva. She was sprawled on the bed next to him, her dark hair fanned out. She was sound asleep.

Tony surveyed her naked form, wincing a bit when her saw her bruised neck and thighs. He had never gotten as far as removing his pants, and the zipper and belt buckle had abraded her sensitive skin. The sight made him slightly queasy. Although Ducky had talked about sex being a healthy reaction, Tony doubted he had anything like this in mind. Yes, she had met his every thrust with total abandon. Yes, her sleep-filled face was relaxed and peaceful for the first time since they had learned of her father's plans. Still, Tony could not help the tendrils of guilt that curled within him and he vowed that next time it would be different. Or non-existent. He would not take advantage of her again.

Careful not to disturb her, Tony slid from the bed, collected his shirt from the floor, and stepped silently out of the bedroom. He headed for the living room but stopped in the powder room along the way. He used his cupped hands to splash cold water on his face. As he scrubbed a towel over his features, he glanced into the mirror, biting his lip when he saw the bruises at the base of his neck. Quickly, he buttoned his shirt all the way to the top and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it did an adequate job of camouflage.

When he made it to the living room, he sank onto the couch with a sigh. He turned on the TV, tuning it to one of the sports channels, but stared at it sightlessly as he replayed the past hour in his mind. At first it had seemed like the answer to the months of anguish he had endured since Ziva had stayed behind in Israel, leaving a larger-than-partner-sized hole in his life. Her return had not solved the problem. Perhaps due to the trauma she had suffered, they had seemed unable to move past a stage where they tiptoed around each other, avoiding sensitive topics and lacking the closeness they had developed in earlier times. Whatever else this evening had wrought, he hoped it had gone a long way towards breaking down the walls between them.

Tony's musings were interrupted by the buzz of his phone. He glanced at the screen, then flipped it open. "Hey, Abby. What do you need?"

"Oh my God, Tony, is Ziva okay," Abby said in a near frantic tone.

"Right now she's sleeping. Probably good for her."

"Yeah, I mean, jeez, how good can you be after your own father tries to kidnap you and you have to shoot him. Except she didn't. Well, she shot him but she wasn't shooting at him."

"Whoa, Abs, I am seriously not following you here," Tony said, confused by Abby's random ramblings.

"I reconstructed the scene and Ziva wasn't shooting at her father, she was shooting at the other Mossad officer. Her dad must have just moved at the wrong time and she winged him."

"That's good news."

"I should say so because otherwise the whole patricide thing would be just too awful, like one of those Greek plays where everyone goes crazy in the end. Except it's not, because it was an accident. Although now that I think about it, weren't there a lot of accidents in the plays. You know, son kills dad because he doesn't know who he is. Not that Ziva didn't know her dad, but still."

"Abby, at this point I have no idea what you are talking about," Tony muttered in confusion.

"I was telling you how the whole situation is like a Greek tragedy," Abby said, then gasped in alarm. "Oh Tony, does that mean Ziva's gonna go crazy too?"

"Hey, wait a minute, could we at least wait until she wakes up before you have her in a straitjacket."

"You're right, I know you're right, I just can't help it ... I worry about you guys. Besides, I know Gibbs will take care of everything, he always takes care of everything. Oh, that's what I was calling to tell you. Gibbs is on his way over and he's in a bear of a mood."

Just then the doorbell chimed. "Thanks for the warning, Abs, but I think he's here now."

Tony hurried over to the door. When he peered through the peephole, he saw Gibbs standing outside, impatiently wiggling the knob as if he could unlock it by sheer force of will. When Tony opened the door, Gibbs strode in past him without anything by way of a greeting.

"How is she?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh, sleeping, boss," Tony said as he surreptitiously checked his collar in the hall mirror. He was relieved to see that his battle scars were still concealed.

"She talk?"

"Not really, I think she's just exhausted now." Gibbs very presence was unsettling Tony and he turned the conversation in another direction before Gibbs could ask an awkward question. "Have you questioned Director David yet?"

"No, they took him to Bethesda to treat his wound. We won't get access to him until tomorrow, and maybe not even then. Bastard lawyered up already." Gibbs voice tensed with suppressed anger as he talked about Ziva's manipulative father.

"I still can't believe she shot him," Tony said.

"Didn't mean to."

"Yeah, Abby told me. Right before she started babbling about patricide and Greek tragedies."

Gibbs sucked his breath in at Tony's words. _Yes, _he thought, _ it's a good thing Eli's injuries were not more serious. _No matter that it was justified, Ziva already had her brother's death on her conscience. The addition of her father might well have been the final straw. Suddenly, Gibbs was worried all over again.

"Let me check on her," Gibbs said as he headed back for the bedroom.

"No!" Tony yelped. "I mean, don't disturb her, she really seemed exhausted." Tony's mind raced as he tried to think of a way to keep Gibbs out of the bedroom. One look at the state of it's contents, not to mention Ziva naked on the bed, and he would know exactly what had happened.

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow at Tony's strange behavior. "Think I can handle being quiet. I need an idea if she's gonna be ready to give a statement tomorrow."

Tony's heart plummeted, there was no way he was changing Gibbs' mind, and all hell was about to break loose. He started mentally debating whether he should start running now or whether that would only make things worse when Gibbs finally caught up with him. Before he could weigh the options another voice saved him.

"Gibbs, I am fine. I will be at the office tomorrow, ready to give a statement," Ziva said from the bedroom doorway.

Tony's eyes flew up at the sound of her voice. She was wrapped up to her neck in a thick terry robe, all sign of their earlier exertions easily hidden. Her face was calm, almost emotionless. There was no sign of the distraught woman Tony had brought home, nor of the wanton who had clawed his back just a few hours earlier.

"Ziva, are you sure?" Gibbs asked, not quite believing the change in her.

"Yes. And I am sorry for my behavior earlier. I was just ... in shock ... it will not happen again. I, more than anyone, should have known what Eli would do."

"Ziva, he is your father ..." Gibbs said.

"Not anymore," she said dispassionately. When they just stared at her, she continued, "Really, I am fine. I just need to rest, you can go home, I will see you tomorrow."

"I think she's right, Gibbs. You can go home and I'll stay on the couch. A good night's sleep may be all she needs," Tony said.

"I do not need a babysitter, I just need to be alone," Ziva objected. "Go home, Tony, I will see both of you tomorrow."

An with that, Tony's worst fears were confirmed. After the way he had behaved, she wanted nothing to do with him. His heart sank. Now, right when she needed a friend, he had ruined everything. Filled with shame, he didn't even object, just gathered his jacket and followed Gibbs out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sorry again for the delay. Perhaps I would have been smarter not to start something like this in the middle of my busy season, but I won't stop now. A nice long chapter where we get *some* answers and ask some new questions._

Tony's sleepless night showed on his face when he stumbled into work the next day. He had spent most of the dark hours of the night worrying about the repercussions of what had passed between Ziva and himself. Would she even speak to him in the morning? If she did, how would they work through the awkwardness? How was he going to deal with being around her now that they had opened this door? Could he cope with the fact that she seemed to have slammed it shut again? Every one of these questions showed in the bags beneath his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. His only consolation was that his insomnia had made it easy to arrive early and he anticipated being alone in the bullpen long enough to collect himself.

When he staggered out of the elevator a surprising sight greeted him. There, seated at her desk and looking as chipper as if she had just returned from a vacation, was Ziva. He stopped and gaped at her, and she took the opportunity to observe him as well, raising her eyebrows at what she saw.

"You have that porcupine look going again, Tony. Do mornings not agree with you?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I told Gibbs I would have my report for him today ... I was awake this morning so I came in to work on it." At those words, a brief shadow crossed her face. Tony questioned whether he had even seen it at all, so quickly was it replaced by a smile. "Unlike you, I like mornings."

Tony sat down at his desk, keeping half an eye on Ziva, and wondering how the frantic woman from last night could have transformed into the cool and collected agent he saw today. There were cracks in her armor, he was sure of it, but he could barely see them. Nevertheless, he resolved to keep a close eye on her.

When Gibbs arrived shortly afterwards, he, too, seemed surprised to see Ziva, but he merely gave her an appraising glance and refrained from commenting. About a half an hour later, Ziva tapped together the pages she had been proofreading, stapled them, and delivered them to Gibbs' desk.

"Here is my report," she said. "If you have any questions after reading it, I will be happy to amend it, but I think I covered everything."

"I'm sure Director Vance will want to interview you, we can address any questions then."

"I anticipated that, and have emailed a copy of the report to him."

"Then I think we're good," Gibbs said, then he gave her another piercing look. "Ziva, are you sure you're okay. None of us would think worse of you if you needed some time to come to terms with-"

Ziva cut him off. "I am fine, work is the only thing I need." Then she turned abruptly and headed for her desk.

Tony had been surreptitiously watching the whole exchange and assessing the possibility of getting a look at the report. Last night's activities had left little time for conversation and he was dying to know what had happened in that warehouse. Ziva must have felt his eyes on her, she had always had a sixth sense for when she was being observed, and once she sat down she glanced at him and then tapped a few keys on her computer.

"I have sent you a copy, too, Tony. I would not want your curiosity to kill you, and besides, if you keep staring at me like that, I will have to hurt you."

Tony did not need to be told twice. his fingers flew across his keyboard as he opened the file. He skimmed it quickly, involuntarily biting his lip as he read the more harrowing sections. He was already familiar with the early portions of the operation because they had had full surveillance in place.

Once the rumors of a possible Mossad mission had reached NCIS, they had, with her consent, bugged Ziva's home and car, and tapped her cell phone so they could listen in on any calls. They had not had to wait long before Levi Eshel, a former Mossad teammate, had contacted her, purporting to have a message from her father. When Ziva expressed little interest in anything her father had to say, Eshel claimed that her father was gravely ill and wanted to set things right with his only surviving daughter. In the interest of not making her new American compatriots suspicious, he suggested they meet in secret, where he would give her the message her father had recorded for her.

Up to this point, it had all gone according to plan. Gibbs and the team had staked out the warehouse rendezvous, planning to listen in and intervene as soon as it was clear that Eshel intended to do more than just deliver a message. They would then use this evidence of Mossad operating on US soil, against a US agent, to clip Eli David's wings.

The plan went off the rails when Ziva entered the warehouse and it became clear that Eli intended to deliver his message in person. Eshel had patted Ziva down, looking for a wire, as soon as she arrived. He found nothing since the team had anticipated this and planted an audio/video camera, disguised as a fire alarm, that could cover the majority of the area. They had also concealed a weapon that Ziva could access if, for any reason, she was in jeopardy before the team was able to reach her.

Once Eshel decided that Ziva was clean, someone else had stepped out of the shadows of the disused warehouse.

"Ziva, _motek,_ you are looking well."

"I could say the same for you, Papa, which is surprising because Levi told me you were dying."

"I am sorry if we distressed you with that bit of subterfuge, but it was necessary-"

"I was not distressed," Ziva broke in.

"But you would not have come without it. My only child and she will not speak to me, she has deserted not only her country, but also her father. That is a sad state of affairs."

"It is your doing as much as mine. If not for my friends at NCIS, you might not even have a daughter left. You have always been *careless* with your children, Papa."

"Ah, but do your friends know you like I do?" Eli asked, a vicious glint in his eyes. "What would they say if they knew about Ari or about what you did on the _Damocles_? What would they say if they really knew what my daughter, Israel's sharpened spear, is capable of?"

"They know, and what is more, they would never ask such things of me."

"I have only ever done what was necessary. Israel is not America, she needs people like me ... and people like you. It is time for you to come home."

"This is my home now, and I am not leaving. Not now, not ever," Ziva said, defiantly.

"So, you will force me to take stronger measures," said Eli, then he walked up to Ziva, leaned in close, and whispered something in her ear.

Ziva's eyes widened and as soon as her father stepped back, she whirled and swung her fist at the wall - right into the bugged fire alarm. Back in the tactical van, their screens went blank and their earphones silent. The team now had no way of knowing what was going on in the warehouse. Despite their worries, the team had to wait it out. Breaking in now, before Eli had made his move, would get them nowhere. They had to trust that Ziva could handle herself even in this volatile situation.

Events were clear up until this point, but when it came to anything after they lost the surveillance, they would have to rely on Ziva's report. According to her, after her outburst, her father had told her that, willingly or unwillingly, he was bringing her back to Israel. The situation with Ari had caused him to lose face, a blow he had recovered from before becoming director of Mossad, but the failure of the original mission to Somalia, and Ziva's subsequent defection, had once again put his standing in jeopardy. In his mind, he was the person best able to defend Israel against her enemies and he was prepared to do whatever it took to fix the situation.

"Papa, the only way I will return is in a body bag," Ziva said.

Eli had stared at her for a long moment. "The choice is yours, Ziva. I cannot let you stand in the way of Israel's needs. No one person is that important. Not you, not even me." Then he motioned with his hand to Eshel.

Horrified, and barely able to believe her own father would do this, Ziva was slow to get to the gun Gibbs had hidden among some empty boxes. Once she did reach it, she was not able to get a clear shot at Eshel, but afraid that she would not get another chance, she took the shot and did manage to wound him enough to take him down, winging her father in the process.

After reading the report, Tony closed his eyes for a moment, aghast at the lengths Eli was willing to go in pursuit of his goals. Tony had always thought himself unlucky in the parents fate had given him, but even his father, while not a prince among men, shone in relation to Ziva's. It was one thing to choose your country ahead of your life, soldiers made that choice every day, but it was another situation entirely to have a father make that decision for his own daughter.

While Ziva's report shed a lot of light on what had happened yesterday, in one area it raised more questions then it answered. Although she didn't actually state it baldly, Ziva implied that the destruction of the surveillance camera had been an accident. Tony didn't believe it. Whatever her father had whispered to her, it was something she did not want anyone else to know. If Tony could figure this out, then so would Gibbs and Vance. Tony was afraid that Ziva would face some rather pointed questions when they finally interviewed her, and he was still not sure she was in any shape to answer them.


	8. Chapter 8

Gibbs slammed his hand down onto Vance's desk. He was not reacting well to the news that Eli David had finagled some sort of diplomatic status before his trip to America.

"I can't believe that after all that man has done to his daughter we are going to just let him go without so much as a slap on the wrist," Gibbs ranted. "You're telling me that we can't even interview him unless he or the embassy agrees to it?"

"The best I can do is to ask the State Department to put pressure on the embassy but I need ammunition to do even that much. Ziva's report is the only thing we have to go on and you know as well as I do that she's leaving some things out."

"She's had enough trauma this past year to last her a lifetime. Can't we just use what she gave us? It seems clear that neither Director David nor Agent Eshel had her best interests at heart."

"Clear to us, but Eli and Eshel are claiming that it was just a father wanting to reconnect with his estranged and unstable daughter, who took things the wrong way and attacked them."

"That's not what happened," Gibbs insisted mulishly.

"You know that and I know that and, personally, I think even the Israeli embassy knows that, but that's their story and, you have to admit, the fact that Ziva disabled the surveillance doesn't look good."

"Maybe it was just an accidental outburst."

Vance didn't even dignify that with a reply, merely cocking an eyebrow and momentarily clamping down on the ever present toothpick in his mouth.

"You're right," said Gibbs, "I don't actually believe that, but can we at least give her a day or two to recover before we brace her with questions?"

Vance sighed. "A day or two at most. Director David has indicated that he might be willing to have an informal chat once he is released from the hospital. I have no doubt he plans on merely reiterating the story he's already told, so we need the whole truth from Ziva before we face him. Make sure that she's ready."

"She will be," Gibbs said as he headed for the door.

Gibbs kept an eye on Ziva for the rest of the afternoon. She worked on her files, chatted in the break room and just generally seemed completely normal. It was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up because usually Ziva was anything but normal. She made none of the biting comments and displayed none of the flashes of temper that he had come to expect from her. She might seem okay to an outsider but things were definitely still not right in her world.

Gibbs tried to catch her alone a few times throughout the day but in each instance she offered some excuse and ducked out of the conversation. Gibbs didn't see how he was going to prepare her to face Vance, and possibly her father, if he couldn't get her to talk. Then he noticed that Tony was watching her just as closely as he was. He waited for a moment when Ziva was out of the bullpen, then he caught Tony's eye and nodded towards the back hallway before leaving his desk and heading in that direction. Moments after he left, Tony rose as well and followed him.

"What do you need, Boss?" Tony asked as soon they were around the corner.

"Saw you watching Ziva."

"Yeah, except it was more like watching "Day of the Dead" since she's been doing a pretty good imitation of a domesticated zombie."

"I know. Tried to talk to her but she keeps avoiding me."

"She's probably afraid the you're going to question her about her report. She left out a few key details," Tony said with a shrug.

"Ya think? The problem is that Vance is gonna want some answers - and soon - but I don't think she's ready to give them. You seemed to do well with her last night, maybe you can make some headway."

Tony flushed with shame as he remembered exactly what had happened last night. It had done the trick but somehow he didn't think an encore would be a good idea. The problem was this wasn't something he wanted to explain to Gibbs.

"I'm not sure I can do any good since she's been treating me like a piece of furniture all day."

They both turned to watch over the stairs as Ziva came back into the bullpen, a fake smile plastered on her face. Gibbs shook his head, worry creasing his brow.

"She's acting like a damn robot. Just give it your best shot Tony, I need her ready and willing to talk by Friday."

"On it, Boss." There was nothing else to do but agree. After all, when Gibbs said jump you asked how high and didn't worry about the fact that you might be plunging off a bridge. Tony just hoped that this time he landed on his feet.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks to the fact that she had already brushed him off several times, Tony knew it would be useless to approach Ziva during the work day. Instead, he laid in wait for her to leave at the end of the day and just as the elevator doors were about to close on her, he thrust a hand inside and joined her in the small space. He finally had her alone but he found he didn't know where to start.

"Tony, why are you staring at me like that?" Ziva asked with an edge of annoyance in her voice.

Tony was startled, he had been so intent on figuring out his first words that he hadn't even realized that he was gazing at her so intensely. "Sorry. I was just wondering how you were doing."

"As I have told you and Gibbs and Abby and every single one of the people who has asked me that - I am fine. I wrote my father out of my life when I decided to stay with NCIS so I am no worse off than I was before this incident happened."

"But he still affects you, Ziva. I saw you last night -"

"I do not want to talk about last night," Ziva snapped before Tony could even finish speaking.

He words were like a slap in the face and Tony fell silent, staring at the wall and wondering how he ever let things get so messed up. Ziva saw his reaction and relented a bit. She slapped down the emergency stop and turned to face him.

"Tony, I do not mean to be so harsh but you are like a friend who does a favor and then will not let you forget about it."

Tony wasn't sure this made him feel any better, classifying last night as "a favor" sounded so detached he almost preferred anger to such a lack of emotion. He would rather be a sore spot than a side note. Still, if that was how she wanted it, he could play that game, too.

He waved a hand dismissively and said,"I'm not talking about _that,_ I'm talking about _ before._ I'm talking about the fact that you were nearly catatonic after your run in with your father and now you're acting as if nothing happened."

"No, I am acting like a professional."

It was like talking to a wall and Tony finally let his frustration get the better of him. "Well you certainly weren't being 'professional' yesterday when you flew off the handle and took out the surveillance. Just what exactly did your father say that upset you so much, because you weren't exactly forthcoming in your report."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Tony knew he had gone too far. He needed to commiserate with her, not castigate her, but he wasn't going to get a second chance. Ziva's mouth closed in a thin line as she flipped the switch to start the elevator moving again. She remained silent but he could see the anger, and what he thought was fear, bubbling just beneath the surface.

Finally, just as they were about to reach the ground floor, she turned to him and spat out her reply. "It was personal, and it won't affect NCIS. Apparently, my loyalty is too suspect for anyone to accept that but I am not going to say anymore."

Then she spun around and flung herself through the now open doors. Tony reached out and caught her by the arm, stopping her headlong rush to flee the scene.

"Ziva, you have to know that Vance isn't going to accept 'it's personal' as an excuse. And besides, even if you don't want to tell him, I'm willing to bet your father will."

"I will deal with that when it happens," Ziva said as she shook off his hand and stalked out of the building.

_Well,_ Tony thought to himself in a sarcastic mental voice, _I think that went well._ Then he sighed. Gibbs was not going to be happy when Tony told him that, if anything, Ziva was worse off than before.


	10. Chapter 10

Ziva stalked across the lobby and plunged through the front doors not, as Tony thought, in an attempt to get away from him, but in the hope of escaping before the tears welling in her eyes began to fall. She was determined not to let them see her cry. She might be about to lose everything that made her life livable, but she was damned if anyone would know how that made her feel.

When she reached her car she flung herself into the front seat and closed the door as quickly as she could. Only then did her control waver. Pressing her fists to her eyes she rested her head against the wheel, her body shaking with the silent sobs she refused to let fully escape.

With effort, Ziva finally managed to gain some semblance of control over her breathing. She couldn't forget her worries but she did manage to stuff them back into the recesses of her mind, at least temporarily. She knew they wouldn't stay there for long though and she started her car, heading for home with the plan of giving herself a hard workout. Maybe after a long run and some time on the heavy punching bag she had hanging in her spare room, she would be exhausted enough to truly forget.

Two hours later, Ziva finally had to admit defeat. She had run until her legs were shaking and when that didn't work, she attacked the heavy bag with her bare hands and feet, whirling and punching until her knuckles bled and her ankles were black and blue, but she still couldn't chase away her despair. It clung to her, in fact, she felt so filled with it that she imagined it oozing out to mix with her sweat, coating her with a sickly sheen of hopelessness.

She didn't understand it, punishing her body had always worked in the past. The scrapes and bloodstains on the heavy bag were a testament to how often she had used this technique to chase away her darkest thoughts. The therapist she was forced to see after Somalia had even said it was a relatively healthy way of coping. With her usual talent for not hearing anything she didn't like, Ziva had ignored the added caveat that it was healthy only if not taken to extremes and only if you did deal with your problems in the end. Besides, the therapist knew only half of it, Ziva had other ways of coping that she never mentioned.

Given that they lived with the terrorist threat as a constant backdrop to their lives, you might expect the Israelis to be a dour people, but that was not the case. Every city and town of any size had a bustling nightlife, clubs and bars where the younger generation went to drink and dance away their worries. Mossad officers were no exception. After a bad day at the scene of a bombing, when they lost a colleague, any time the job became just too much to take - that was when you would find them out on the town. And if the night ended in a stranger's bed, well, at least they got a few hours respite and reminded themselves they were lucky to still be alive. Most officers outgrew this stage, or married and had a spouse to console them. Even Ziva rarely let herself go crazy anymore but tonight she was really feeling the urge. She felt like a caged animal and needed something to ease her pain even if it was only for a single night. She would face tomorrow ... tomorrow.

Her mind made up, she strode into the bathroom and showered quickly. Still wrapped in only a towel, she rubbed some gel into her hair and left it to dry in tousled curls as she reached deep into her closet and came out with a dress that anyone at NCIS would be shocked to know that she owned. When she slid into it, the small scrap of deep red material resolved itself into a halter dress whose plunging neckline, high shirred waist and short skirt emphasized Ziva's athletic curves. Black fuck-me pumps completed the outfit and heavy mascara and a lip color Abby would have been proud of were the final touches.

After a quick look in the mirror, Ziva headed for the door, pausing only long enough to grab her cellphone off the hall table. It rang just as she reached for it. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was Tony calling. She hit the ignore button, wincing a bit when she saw that it was his third call. He meant well, but she just couldn't handle any more entanglements right now. She pushed the thought of the hurt she had seen on his face in the elevator out of her mind, stuck the phone in her purse, and left without a backward glance.

The bar she went to was not one of her usual haunts, the fact that the owner had taken nearly half the room and turned it into a dance floor, complete with strobing lights and pounding speakers, kept her away on any normal evening. But tonight was not normal and not only did she crave the nightclub-like action, the fact that she was not well known here was also a big draw. For the moment, she ignored the dance floor and headed for the bar, quickly signaling the bartender and ordering a martini.

"Here you go, one vodka martini. Just wave me down when you need another," he said when he delivered her drink.

"You can get me my second one right now," Ziva said.

"Don't you want to wait till you finish that one?"

Ziva picked up the glass and tossed back the stiff drink in no more than three swallows. "I am done, so get me another."

The bartender gave her a surprised look but acceded to her request and brought her another round. This time she drank more slowly, picking up the glass and swiveling in her chair so she could survey the room as she sipped her drink. She had already picked out two or three likely prospects when she heard her cell ring inside her purse. She pulled it out - Tony again. Without answering, she set the phone to vibrate only, stuck it back into her purse, slid off her stool and began to approach the well built guy that she had spotted earlier.


	11. Chapter 11

Tony sat on the couch in his apartment, Chinese takeout on the table in front of him and ESPN playing on his big screen TV, but neither the game nor his dinner was holding his attention. Instead he was staring at his cell phone as, yet again, Ziva failed to answer. At first he'd told himself that he wasn't going to call, that after the scene in the elevator it would be the better part of valor to just leave her alone. She had, after all, made it quite clear that she didn't want his company. Unfortunately, he couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd tried stopping by his local watering hole, but neither alcohol nor the cute blond who slid up onto the barstool next to him, had kept him from worrying about what Ziva was going to do next. That was when he'd made the first call. He'd called again while he waited for his order at the Hong Kong Palace, and this was now his third attempt. The result continued to be the same - no answer.

He told himself that she was a big girl, that after everything she had survived, there was no way that she would get herself in trouble here in D.C., but although his brain saw the logic, his heart refused to listen. Finally, he gave up on his internal debate, snapped his phone shut, tossed his dinner into the trash and headed for the door. He would check on her. Even if she wouldn't let him in, just knowing that she was home safe would let him rest easier.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself sitting on the steps in front of Ziva's building just as worried as he was before. She had not answered when he rang her bell so he started pounding on her door so loudly that one of her neighbors stuck their head out to complain.

"Would you please stop that. She's not home," said the middle aged woman who lived next door to Ziva.

"How do you know?" Tony asked.

"I saw her leave."

"But her car is still in the lot," Tony pointed out, more worried than ever. All sorts of scenarios ran through his mind. Could Mossad have come back for a second try? Or maybe Ziva had packed a bag and headed for the airport, running away rather than deal with the mess here at home. His distress must have shown on his face, because the woman gave him an explanation before he could even ask.

"I don't know what you are so worried about, she was dressed to go out, and she often calls a cab if she's not going far and doesn't want to worry about parking," the woman told him.

Unfortunately, the thought of Ziva out on the town in her current state of mind was only marginally more reassuring than the idea of Ziva abducted, or on a plane to who knew where, and that is why he was now sitting on the steps, using his iphone to compile a list of all the bars and clubs in the area. He would check them, one by one, even if it took all night, because he knew he wouldn't sleep until he assured himself that she was okay.

It didn't actually take him all night to find her. When he walked into the fourth bar and scanned the room, she was hard to miss. There, on the dance floor, surrounded by several attractive men, was Ziva. Her red dress swirled around her as she smiled provocatively and tossed her curls, dancing closely with each guy in turn. Tony felt jealousy rear it's ugly head. After all he had done, all the ways he had tried to be a good friend, this was how she chose to cope with her worries, preferring the company of strangers, men whose names she probably didn't even know, to anything he could offer.

Tony strode out onto the dance floor, pushed his way into Ziva's group, and grabbed her by the arm. "C'mon Ziva, party's over - its time to go home," he said loudly enough for her dance partners to hear.

"Go away, Tony, I am not going home, and I am especially not going home with you," Ziva said as she tried to shake off his grip.

One of the men stepped forward to her defense. "You heard the lady, she doesn't want to go with you so why don't you let go and leave her alone."

Before the situation could escalate, Tony pulled out his badge and flashed it at the group of men. This made them decide that maybe their new companion wasn't worth the trouble and they melted back into the crowd, leaving Ziva and Tony standing on their own amidst the other gyrating dancers.

"I am still not going home with you, Tony," Ziva hissed in his ear. "What gives you the right to interfere with what I do in my free time."

"I'm your friend, and when I see a friend behaving self-destructively, I'm going to do something. You can't tell me you actually think spending the night partying, and we won't even talk about what you planned on doing with your new friends, right before you have to face Vance, and possibly your father, is a good idea."

"My life is going to pieces around me and you think I should, what? Sit home and think about it?"

"Be better than what you're doing now," Tony muttered under his breath. Then he looked her in the eye. "No, I think you should ask for help. Would it really kill you to, just once, ask your friends for help. If not me, then Gibbs, or Abby. Anyone would be better than this." Taking her arm again, more gently this time, he led her towards the door.

"I do not want help, I just want to forget," Ziva paused as they reached the door, looking at Tony, her dark eyes betraying her desolation. "Please, Tony, don't make me go home. I can not face it alone."

Tony studied her for a moment, then sighed. "Fine, we'll go to my place, but I can't promise not to try and make you talk." When Tony saw the hungry look that crossed Ziva's face when he suggested going to his place, he knew that Ziva was thinking of something other than talking. He was asking for trouble but he didn't see any other alternative. _I can handle this, _he told himself,_ I can use my self control, or at least what little I have when it comes to her._

A/N:_ Yes, I know i have left you hanging, but I should have the next chapter up soon, and , as we all know, Tony and self control are not words usually uttered together so it should be a good one._


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Sorry this has been so long in coming and a thank you (in advance) to all the readers who have stuck with me despite the lack of updates. I promise they will come more reliably soon, when my life goes back to normal sometime in August, although i do hope to get the next chapter (full of yummy stuff) up soon, but until then, at least this one contains some much anticipated information. Enjoy and thank you!_

Ziva was so silent on the car ride that Tony thought he might be in for a repeat of the previous night's distress, but when they reached his apartment she jumped out and waited impatiently for him to unlock the front door. As soon as he let her in she headed for living room and hit the power button on his sound system. With Led Zepplin blaring from the speakers, she began rooting through his movie collection, all the while carrying on an animated conversation about the possible selections.

"I am in the mood for some good action," she said as she pulled out a movie and examined its case. "Hmm, 'The Bourne Identity,' too unrealistic." She tossed that one back and removed another. "This one is good, but too depressing." It joined the pile of discards. "Ah, 'The French Connection,' this is old, but perfect."

Tony watched this whole display, his mouth open with amazement. He had never seen anyone run though such a gamut of emotions so quickly and he knew that her current manic state was no more than a cover for the fear she had expressed earlier. Still, one small part of him wanted to just go along with her, sit and watch the movie and avoid dealing with the hard truths that were sure to become issues tomorrow. He tamped that part down, though, and the credits had barely started to scroll across the screen when he grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

"Ziva, we need to talk. _You _need to talk."

"Tony, tomorrow is going to come soon enough, why can't you just let me forget for tonight," she pleaded, her distress showing through the mask of frivolity she was trying to keep in place.

"Because if you don't talk, I can't help. Ziva what could be so bad that, after everything we've been through, you can't tell even me."

She didn't answer him, at least not directly, instead sinking down onto the couch and staring at her knees while clenching her hands into fists so hard that her nails left bright red indentations on her palms. Finally she looked up, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes.

"You do not really know me," she said. Tony opened his mouth to protest but Ziva cut him off. "I am a killer, Tony."

"Ziva, I know that - we all know that, and no one cares what you've done in the line of duty. It's not like you're the only one, even McGoo has had to go there. You've just been there a bit more than the rest of us - except for maybe Gibbs and I really don't want to know about Gibbs."

"You do not want to know about me either."

"And I don't need to, so what is the problem? Even if your father gives a blow by blow account of your career, NCIS isn't going to care," Tony said with a shrug.

"And if it was not all in the line of duty? What would they say then? What would _you_ say if you knew I was not just a killer but a murderer."

"Ziva, I know you, and you are _not_ a murderer. Besides, I'm sure that anything you did was at the behest of your father."

Ziva shook her head. "This is my own doing. My father is not to blame and he was not always the monster you know now." Ziva stopped for a moment and looked at Tony. When he simply held her gaze without speaking, she took a deep breath, and continued, looking down at her knees again, as if unable, or unwilling, to watch his reaction as she told her tale.

"You know that I was already part of Mossad when my sister was killed, what you don't know is that my job was different back then. My father made sure that I received the highest level of training, but then he kept me away from the worst of the action. Because of my language skills, I ran a few informants and my other duties were mostly providing support to agents in the field. I did not do any of the undercover or termination work I later took on and I do not think my father ever intended me to. "

She stopped talking again, wringing her hands and refusing to meet Tony's gaze. He reached over and gripped her hands in one of his own, holding them just firmly enough to stop their obsessive twisting.

"Ziva, tell me. There is nothing you can say that will make me change what I think of you."

"Do not make promises you can not keep, Tony. You have not yet heard what I have done." Then, with a sigh, she went on. "When Tali was killed, my family was devastated. It was the beginning of the end for my mother, she simply wasted away after the funeral. The doctors can say what they want but I know it was the loss of her youngest daughter that killed her. And my father, he became a man obsessed. Every resource was used, every agent put on the case, and every informant pressed for leads in his hunt for those who were responsible. I, too, was put on the case and pursued it with a zeal that I had never felt before."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less," said Tony.

Ziva ignored his reassurance, in fact, she shook off his hand and rose, starting to pace the room as she continued her tale. "Other agents brought home a few vague rumors but I was the one who dug paydirt."

"Hit paydirt," Tony corrected her out of habit, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"One of my informants knew of someone involved in the bombing. I should have simply relayed this information to my father but by then, having watched my mother fall apart and with my father barely noticing me, I needed to do something more to ease my own pain. I went undercover by myself, without authorization, to try to contact the man my informant had told me about ... and I found him."

"Good for you."

"No, not good, not good at all. He was not a major player, just someone who supplied some parts and a safe haven where the real bombers could ply their trade. He might have led us to the masterminds, but when he told me about the attack, he was bragging. He was proud of the part he had played, of the people he had helped to kill for Islam."

"That must have been hard to listen to," Tony said, but he didn't understand where this was going. So far nothing she had said was at all shocking. Heart wrenching, yes, but not surprising and certainly not damning.

Ziva looked over at him, pausing her agitated walking, but she did not seem to really see him. Her eyes were unfocused as she relived the memory, watching an agonizing video behind her tear-filled eyes.

"He specifically mentioned Tali, not her name, but the fact that she was the daughter of a high ranking Mossad officer. He even told me how he had brought his son with him to watch the bomb go off, then he called his son in to the room to help him tell the story. I still remember what they said, how they described the blast, how they described Tali's death. They said she was just walking through the door when the explosion happened, that in fact, they were concerned that the bomb might go off too early and miss her. But it didn't. They told me how it blew her backwards, so hard that she crashed into car almost 20 meters away. Then they laughed. They said the best part of the bombing was seeing Tali 'learn to fly, right before she learned to die.'"

Tony was horrified at what she had gone through even though he still didn't understand why she thought these events reflected badly on her. He stood up and reached out to her, gathering her into his arms and holding her. He could feel her quivering with suppressed sorrow and tension as he cradled her against himself and stroked her hair. "You don't have to tell me more. I'm sorry I made you relive something so painful," he told her.

"But I do have to tell you," she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest. She turned her head slightly, so that he could hear her better but made no effort to look up at him as she told the last part of her tale.

"When they laughed, a part of me exploded. I did not care that they were our one solid lead to the bombers or that the son was no older than Tali, I just wanted them dead, wanted them to know what it was like to die for nothing. I pulled out my gun and I shot them. I do not know how many times, I just pulled the trigger over and over, then I dropped the gun and I ran. My father was furious. I had killed our only link to the men who were truly responsible, but I was his daughter, so he covered it up, wrote up orders for their assassination and backdated them. Then he called me into his office and told me that if I was so anxious to use my gun then he would put me where that would be an asset. That was when he began to train me in earnest, when he decided to make me his weapon, when he decided I was a killer first and his daughter only second. And that was what he threatened to tell NCIS, that they were employing a murderer, someone capable of shooting an unarmed man and his child in cold blood."

Ziva finally stopped talking, looked up at Tony, and saw the shock that she had expected on his face. But then, before she could look away, the shock melted out of his eyes and was replaced by something that frightened her even more, something that she decided to call pity.

"Oh, Ziva," Tony said, amazed at her strength. Amazed that she had been able to not only go through all that she had in her life, but keep it locked up inside and still remain, if not exactly whole, at least relatively intact. He realized that she was exactly what he had always wanted but, thanks to deep seated fears of not measuring up, had been afraid to try for. He dated bimbos and played the fool, the only time he had ever let himself get close to someone had been when he was undercover and therefore supplied with a built in barrier, but he was through with hiding. This time he was determined not to make the same mistakes so he tried to put all the sympathy and all the love he was feeling into his gaze as he pulled her closer in the hope of soothing her fears.

Ziva stiffened as she felt Tony's arms encircle her even tighter. Shock she could have tolerated, she was even prepared for disgust, but pity, and that other, truer thing she saw in his eyes, that emotion she was afraid to even name, undid her. She did not know what to do so she did the first thing that came to mind. She tilted her head up, twined her hands in his hair and kissed him. At least lust was something she was comfortable with.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating but I promise I will be pretty regular from here on out. Sometimes real life just sucks. Meanwhile, enjoy this chapter - it's full of the good stuff. -)_

For a moment, the previous evening flashed through Tony's mind and he almost pulled away. But he didn't. This was nothing like the last time. Yes, there was still that edge of desperation in his partner, but she had talked to him, told him more than ever before and Tony decided that this meant she was finally truly trusting him, finally opening up to him and maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't begin and end in the bedroom. He slid one hand up into her hair and wrapped the other around her shoulders as he kissed her back, using his mouth to express how he felt without actually speaking the words.

As soon as Ziva felt his acquiescence, she pushed Tony back onto the sofa and then, without ever letting her mouth leave his, she lowered herself to straddle him. Her hand pulled frantically at his shirt until she was able to release it from his jeans and lift it up, running her hands up his muscled torso as she pulled it over his head. Tony responded in kind, removing her tank top and bra in one practiced motion and then sighing into her mouth as her bare breasts pressed up against his chest, reveling in the erotic sensation of her warm, bare skin. His lips finally strayed from her mouth and began tracing a path down her neck and then lower still, until he finally claimed a nipple with his mouth, licking and sucking as Ziva threw back her head and moaned her pleasure.

When Tony moved his lips back to her mouth, Ziva slid her hands downward and began frantically working at the buttons on Tony's jeans. Despite the way his erection was straining at the fabric, he grabbed her wrists gently to stop her. This time he really was going to take it slow, this time he was going to show her how it could be. Still holding her wrists, he lifted her off his lap and pressed her down onto the couch. He looked at her for a long moment, her hair in wild curls half covering her face, her body loose limbed in sensual abandon. He slid his hands up her still clothed thighs until he reached the waistband of her pants. He undid the zipper and slid them smoothly off her, pulling her lacy panties along with them.

Once she was completely naked, he knelt between her thighs and inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweet scent of her before he lowered his mouth, sliding his tongue between her already damp folds and reveling in her taste. As Ziva moaned, he used all his skills to bring her passion to a peak, drawing back only when she cried out her release.

He took a quick look at the couch but, deciding it was too cramped to suit his purposes, he bent over, paused to kiss Ziva yet again, and then gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down on the bed and stepped back to shuck off his jeans.

Ziva looked at him through heavy lidded eyes and asked, "Where are they?"

"In the nightstand," he replied, immediately knowing what she wanted.

Ziva reached into the drawer and pulled out the small foil packet, ripping it open quickly as she beckoned him over. A shiver ran up Tony's spine as he felt her small hands smoothing the condom onto his now throbbing cock and it was only conjuring up the mental image of his crotchety great aunt that kept him from losing control right then and there.

As soon as he had settled himself, he climbed onto the bed and streched himself out over his partner, holding his weigh off of her with his arms as he gazed down into her eyes. Without ever breaking eye contact, he used a knee to spread her legs and ever so slowly slid himself into her hot, moist depths. When he was fully within her, he bent down and kissed her. Unable to wait any longer, he began to thrust his hips, gasping as Ziva moved beneath him, matching his rhythm and his passion with every stroke.

After that, Tony didn't remember much. All to soon, he felt himself rising to his climax but Ziva was right there with him, her cries matching his mutual climax was mindblowing and Tony could have sworn the earth moved again as he exploded within her.

Afterwards, they lay tangled together, a mess of sweaty limbs and tousled hair. It was with great reluctance that Tony finally pulled out, feeling a strange pang of loss that he had never experienced before as he slid from her body. He ran a hand gently down her cheek then headed for the bathroom to clean up. When he came back to the room, Ziva had risen and donned one of his shirts. Far too big for her, its tails fell far enough to cover her like a nightshirt. The sight of her so at home and relaxed in his clothes nearly got him started again, but he didn't get a chance to act on it because Ziva headed for the bathroom as soon as he vacated it. He sat on the bed and when it took her a while to reappear, he had a moment of panic, wondering if he had somehow missed her gathering up her clothes and she was even now dressing to leave. Finally she reappeared, still in his shirt, and Tony held his breath while he waited to see what she would do. He needn't have worried, she slid into the bed next to him and let him pull her into his arms. He pulled the covers up over them, buried his face in her neck and murmured her name softly into her skin. He thought she quivered a bit when he did so but he forgot that when she settled into his embrace and her breathing slowed and became regular as she fell asleep. Soon after, Tony found his eyes closing and he, too, drifted into slumber with visions of many more nights like this flowing through his mind.


	14. Chapter 14

In the wee hours of the morning, Ziva suddenly awoke. The feel of a man next to her in the bed was nothing new, but then the memory of the previous evening, and the look on Tony's face when she finally told her story, came back to her and her flight instincts came to the fore. She didn't want to stick around to see his pity ... or even that other emotion she was too scared to name, written plainly on his face in the morning light.

Silently, she slid out of the bed, pausing only momentarily to look back at his sleeping form with regret, but she knew it was no use. After what she had revealed last night, everything was sure to change. No matter how he felt last night, in morning's cruel light, he was sure to realize what she was. A murderer, nothing more, nothing less. She had suffered too much loss in her life - her sister, her mother, Michael - and then there was Ari, dead by her own hand. Even her father, though still alive, might as well be counted in the sad litany of the bodies that littered her life. Soon, when NCIS questioned her father and learned about her history, she would lose the people she had come to consider her family. Getting close to Tony now would only exacerbate the situation, only twist the knife even deeper. She couldn't go there so she knew she had to be the one to leave before it went any further.

Despite the fact that she knew she should go in to NCIS, face her father and, even worse, face Gibbs and Vance, she just couldn't bring herself to tell her story again. Then she realized that telling it to Tony had put him in a very awkward position. Gibbs and Vance were sure to ask him what he knew and he would be torn between giving them the information they needed and breaking her confidence. That at least was something she could fix. She hunted around the apartment until she found a pen and paper, then sat down to write a note.

_Dearest Tony,_

_You have always had my back. I know that I have not always appreciated, or even acknowledged it, but I have always known that I could count on you. _

_Now, it is time that I return the favor. _

_You deserve to be with someone who can give back to you, someone whole - not the damaged goods that my life has left me. I will only hold you back and after all you have done I refuse to let that happen. I just want you to know that I will always remember everything you have done for me and, no matter what, the memory of your loyalty and belief in me will stay with me forever._

_I also realize that last night's confession puts you in an awkward position and I am telling you now that you do not need to think of me. Although I cannot bring myself to repeat my story to Gibbs and Vance, I am giving you permission to tell them what you know without worrying about betraying me. If there is one thing I have learned from you, it is that I cannot avoid facing the music. See, I have even learned an American idiom but, as with most of what I have learned in my life, it is too little and too late._

_I will come into headquarters at some point today, even if it is only to tender my resignation, but then I am leaving. Do not come after me. You are too good an agent, and a person, to tie yourself to the rotting mess that is my life and career. I do not yet know where I will go or what I will do but I will survive somehow. That is my one talent - survival - so do not worry about me._

_I will remember you, and the team, forever._

Ziva thought for a long moment about what to put as the closing. Sincerely was clearly too formal but the other words that came to mind expressed an emotion she was not yet ready to put down on paper. Finally, she simply signed her name. She left the letter in the center of Tony's desk, moving an old basketball trophy to hold it down and be sure that Tony noticed its presence.

She looked around the apartment one last time, tears clouding her vision, then grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She paused just before she left and whispered into the empty room.

"I do love you, Tony, but you will be better off not knowing that. And people such as I cannot afford to think of love."

Then she wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes before they could fall, squared her shoulders and walked out into the grey light of the barely rising dawn.

The warm light of the morning sun that slanted between his blinds and fell on his face was what finally woke Tony. He took his time rising up from from his pleasant dreams of last night. Finally he stretched and, without really opening his eyes, reached across the bed for Ziva and felt ... nothing. The cold, empty pillow next to him brought him instantly awake even though he told himself that Ziva was a notoriously early riser and probably waiting for him in the kitchen or living room, drinking coffee and tapping her foot with impatience at his sleepiness. She wouldn't have left ... she couldn't have left ... not after what they had shared last night. At least that is what Tony told himself as he scrambled into a pair of boxers and went looking for her, his heart in his throat.

But the apartment was empty and silent. The only thing moving in the living room were the dust motes that twirled and danced in the splintered rays of light that managed to squeeze in through the curtains. He scanned the room, hoping against hope, to find some remnant of her. Something she might have left behind that would allow him to believe that she had just stepped out for breakfast, or to go for a run. Then the statue snagged his gaze. It belonged on the shelf above the desk and he was sure he had not moved it himself. Slowly, dread weighing down his footsteps, he walked over and removed her missive from beneath its impromptu paperweight.

The handwriting was unmistakably Ziva's, with that strangely precise yet artistic quality that must have come from years of forming the more difficult Hebrew letters of her native language. He took a deep breath and read her message, unconsciously biting his lip as he realized just how much guilt and fear she was still carrying. Before her intentions, and his disappointment, could really sink in, he was startled by the ringing of his phone. Dropping the letter, he walked to the coffee table and found his cell where he had tossed it last night.

"DiNozzo," he answered, catching the call just before it stopped ringing.

"Need you in the office early," Gibbs' voice said into his ear. "Need you to get Ziva, too. She's not answering her phone."

"Uh, that might be a problem, boss," Tony replied.

Gibbs could hear the edge of worry in his senior agent's voice. "Talk to me, DiNozzo," he said.

And with that, Tony knew the time for subterfuge was over. Putting aside any worries he had for himself, he told Gibbs what had happened, starting with finding Ziva in the bar and ending with finding her gone in the morning. What he didn't tell his boss were the details of Ziva's anguished confession. Even though she had given him permission, in fact almost begged him, to tell her story, it still felt like a betrayal to reveal her secrets, so Tony simply glossed over that portion of the narrative. Maybe, if he was lucky, Gibbs would let sleeping dogs lie, at least until he could figure out what Ziva planned. He also didn't explicitly say they had slept together, but he knew Gibbs was more than perceptive enough to read between the lines and when he finally finished speaking he waited for the angry outburst he was sure would be coming.

"Is she in danger?" Gibbs asked in a concerned voice.

"Not right this second."

"A danger to herself?"

"No ... no, she left a note. Said she would be in to NCIS sometime today ... to tender her resignation," Tony said, his defeat obvious in his tone.

"Okay then, we can't worry about her right now. I know it'll be hard on you but I need you to come in and leave Ziva to her own devices for now. Eli David has agreed to an interview and will be here within the hour. You managed to play him once before, back in Israel and I need you in that room with me when we question him."

"That's it, boss? You're not gonna yell at me?"

"For what, DiNozzo."

"You know, rule twelve and all that. And for maybe being the reason Ziva is in the wind."

"Tony, part of being a good agent is knowing when to break the rules - and you are a good agent. I trust your judgement. Just come in and as soon as we finish with Director David we'll figure out what to do about Ziva."


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Just a short chapter here but one that took me a while to write since I hadn't really given it much thought. Too occupied with the next couple pivotal chapters to come I guess. I promise to update soon - some important parts are coming._

As soon as Tony set foot in Vance's outer office, his secretary waved him inside. _Not a good sign that Vance isn't playing his usual power games and making me wait,_ thought Tony. When he stepped through the door, he became even more worried. Vance was standing beside his desk with his arms crossed and a toothpick doing a frantic dance between his teeth. Gibbs was slouched against a wall and raked Tony with an assessing gaze as soon as he entered.

"Director, Gibbs," Tony greeted them but then shut his mouth, the better to keep his foot from entering it while navigating this potentially treacherous interview.

Vance didn't even bother with preliminaries. "Gibbs tells me that you have spent some time with Ziva these past few days."

Tony's eyes flew to Gibbs in shock. Could his boss really have informed the director about his suspicions regarding Tony and Ziva's recent activities. When he saw Gibbs' unperturbable mien, he realized that there was no hidden innuendo in the director's words so he nodded and allowed himself to relax for a moment.

His relief was short lived as Vance plowed ahead. "Am I correct in believing that she may also have talked to you."

"Yes, she did," Tony answered without elaborating. He though he detected a small, tight smile from Gibbs but it was gone in an instant.

Vance looked back and forth between Tony and Gibbs, obviously waiting for someone to tell him more. When that didn't happen he barked, "DiNozzo, are you going to tell me what she said or am I supposed to read your mind, damn it."

"I wasn't planning on it," Tony responded mildly. Then he waited for the ax to fall.

"DiNozzo, may I remind you that you are an employee of NCIS, and as such, you have an obligation to disclose any information that might impact this agency - at least if you want to remain an employee." Vance was not happy to be thwarted.

Gibbs started up off the wall, ready to come to Tony's defense. He might not be pleased at Tony's reticence but he hated it when Vance threatened one if *his* agents. Tony held up a hand to stop him and answered Vance himself. "I know exactly who I work for and I can assure you that if the information that Ziva gave me was something that would damage NCIS, I would tell you. However, I also have an obligation to her, as a partner and as a friend, and right now it is more important that she knows that someone has her back, no matter what, than it is for you to know what she told me." Vance opened his mouth to protest but Tony just steamrolled over him. "I know I'm not your favorite agent, but I am a good one, and you'll just have to take my word that you do not need to know this."

Gibbs wasn't sure he agreed with Tony but he had to admire his steadfastness. This, and not the goofy fuck-up Tony usually pretended to be, was the agent Gibbs had spent years grooming as his replacement. It remained to be seen if Vance would go along with him.

"DiNozzo, you do realize that Director David is likely to tell me whatever it is that Ziva doesn't want us to know - after all, it seems a reasonable assumption that was what he threatened her with. If I'm going to find out shortly, what is the harm in telling me now so that I can possibly use it against him. You say I should trust you but you need to trust me too. I have Ziva's best interest in mind." Vance refused to give up but he was trying a different tack now.

"I know he may tell you but she's already been betrayed by her father so that won't be anything new. I will not be the friend that does the same."

"Tony, how can you be so sure that the information won't hurt NCIS?" Gibbs asked, more as a way to let Tony explain himself than because he was worried about the issue. Tony's word alone was good enough for Gibbs.

"It was something that happened a long time ago, and Ziva assured me that her father covered the incident up. He can expose her to you, but if he was to try to do it publicly, news of that coverup would only hurt him as much as it hurts her. Besides, if you succeed in discrediting him, I doubt anyone will be inclined to listen to him anyway."

Finally, Vance had to bow to the force of Tony's logic. "Okay, DiNozzo, I'll let you off the hook. I just hope Agent David knows what a good and loyal friend she has in you."

"So do I," muttered Tony under his breath, "so do I."


	16. Chapter 16

When Ziva finally arrived at NCIS, the area of the bullpen usually occupied by Gibbs' team was empty. _It will make it that much easier to write up my letter of resignation,_ she thought, ignoring the small stab of regret that lanced through her mind. _I was *not* hoping they would be here to talk me out of it, _ she told herself, _I have no choice but to do this._

She sat down at her desk, flicked on her computer, took a deep breath, and got to work. She found herself unable to concentrate, though. In the prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck, she could feel the stares of the other agents in the room, and when she looked around, their eyes did that telltale slide that let her know she was right. They had been watching her but didn't want her to know. She felt like some sort of exotic, caged animal, put on display to titillate and horrify a crowd. _Damn it, Tony, _she thought, _when I told you to tell my story, I didn't mean for you to tell it to everyone. _Still, what did it matter, in a few hours she would be gone and the staff would have to satisfy themselves with gossip alone. "Killer Ziva" would no longer be available for viewing. She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes to staunch the tears that were threatening to fall and bent back to her task.

The words, however, refused to come. Instead what flitted through her mind were images of all the times, good and bad, she had spent with the people she had come to consider her family. From Gibbs' first, gentle headslap in the elevator to his whisper in the interrogation room when he told her she had come home, from Tim's spluttering embarrassment at her many risque comments to Abby's slow thaw into friendship, even Ducky's wordy but wise advice, all of these images crowded into her head. But first and foremost, over and over, there was Tony. Aggravating her, teasing her, helping her, rescuing her, and finally, kissing her. Even her anger at him for telling everyone her secret could not prevent her from seeing his face.

Just when Ziva thought she was about to succumb to her emotions, she was startled by the sound of Ducky's voice. "Ziva, my dear, I did not expect to see you in here today." He peered at her computer monitor. "May I be so bold as to ask what you are working on?"

"My resignation," she said flatly.

"My dear girl, whatever for?"

"I cannot believe you need to ask after what Tony must have told you."

"He told us only that you did not yet feel up to work. Which, under the circumstances, seems only reasonable," Ducky replied, a confused look on his face.

"Then why is everyone staring at me?"

"I imagine it is because they are surprised to see you, and perhaps wondering what you will do given that your father is here as well."

Ziva wasn't sure she believed Ducky's explanation, but all her worries about her secret disappeared with the news of her father's presence. "Where is he," she demanded.

"In interrogation, but I do not think-"

"I need to see this."

"-it would be a good idea for you to witness it," finished Ducky lamely, as he watched Ziva vanish down the hallway. "Oh dear," he said to himself, "this might be a good time to warn Jethro."

McGee and Abby were sequestered behind the one way mirror observing with interest as Vance, Gibbs, and Tony finally came face to face with Director Eli David. Director David was seated at the table, doing his best to look unruffled, but his appearance of composure was marred by the bulk of the bandage under his shirt and the lines of stress apparent around his eyes. Across from him was Director Vance, who had insisted on taking the lead in the interrogation of his one time friend and counterpart. Gibbs was slouched nonchalantly against the mirror, his lackadaisical pose in contradiction to the intensity of the gaze he was directing at Eli. Tony occupied a chair in the corner. He was present at Vance's insistence, but the faraway look in his eyes made it apparent that his mind was elsewhere.

"He doesn't look evil," Abby said as she peered through the one way glass. "He looks like a ... like a grandfather."

"Not much chance of that with the way he keeps treating his offspring," McGee said with a sarcasm he rarely demonstrated.

"How can anyone do what he's done, especially to their own children and still look so normal?"

"I dunno, Abby, but maybe if you'd keep quiet we'd be able to hear and find out." McGee's biting words made Abby shoot him a hurt glance, but she did stop talking, aware that his rudeness was the product of his worries for their teammate and not indicative of any real ire directed at her.

Back in the interrogation room, Vance was going through the formalities. He informed Eli that the interview would be recorded, reiterated that he had agreed to the meeting without coercion, and asked him to sign some paperwork to that effect. That accomplished, he sat back and regarded the man he had once trusted through narrowed eyes.

"Eli, I never thought it would come to this, but you have to know that you finally overstepped your bounds," Vance said with hints of both steel and sadness in his voice.

"What bounds?" Eli asked. "Does America have some law against a father trying to reconnect with his estranged daughter? Because, if so, I must plead ignorance of them."

"Seems like you went through a lot of trouble just to _reconnect,_" Gibbs observed dryly.

Director David shrugged. "As you know, Ziva can be _recalcitrant_ at times."

McGee and Abby did not get to hear Gibbs' response because at that very moment, the door to the observation room opened with a crash and Ziva barged in. Abby took one look at Ziva's anguished face and threw herself at her in a hug.

"Oh, Ziva, I'm so sorry, Are you okay?" she queried with her face buried in Ziva's shoulder.

"I am fine, Abby, let me go, I want to see what my father has to say."

McGee could tell that Ziva was far from okay, but he didn't know what to do so he settled for trying to help her extract herself from Abby's limpet grasp. "Abs, maybe you should leave her alone. You can hug her after the interview, I'm sure she'll need it then."

Abby didn't appear convinced but she allowed herself to be pulled away and all three of them turned their attention back to the interrogation. So far, Vance had been unable to ruffle Eli. Instead, he took the approach of letting him tell his side of the story in the hope of lulling him into a false sense of security. It was unlikely that his tale would match up with Ziva's account or even with what little surveillance they had, allowing his questioners to use that information to trip him up.

Eli recounted how, after her return to the States, Ziva had refused to reply to any of his direct overtures, so he had used Officer Eshel to contact her. He confessed that he had used the ruse of ill health to play on her sympathies and disarm her suspicions. He claimed that he had suggested the warehouse for a meeting in case she wished to hide their contact from NCIS. Up to this point, his story coincided with what the team knew. He was surely lying about his intentions, but at least so far, his account of his actions was true. Unfortunately, once he moved on to the events in the warehouse his story started to diverge.

"Even once I showed myself, she remained unreceptive," he told Vance. "In fact, when she learned that the story of my illness was intended to draw her out, she became enraged and abusive. Still, I did my best to calm her. I truly believed it was in her best interests to come home, but I will admit that I was perhaps influenced by my desire to have my one remaining child at my side. You are a father, Leon; surely you can understand that."

"And the 'stronger measures' you threatened her with. Those don't sound like the words of a loving father," Gibbs pointed out.

"I understand your protectiveness, Agent Gibbs, I even thank you for it because Ziva is a damaged, violent woman who needs our care. That was what I was referring to when I said that. Her behavior led me to believe that psychiatric care might be necessary. In the interest of protecting her reputation, I chose to whisper this to her rather than say it outright. That was when her anger overwhelmed her and she destroyed your surveillance equipment." Eli stopped talking when a sudden thump and an indistinguishable yell were heard from behind the mirror.

In the observation room, McGee and Abby were staring at Ziva with worry filled eyes. When she heard her fathers assertion that she was in need of psychiatric help, she had slammed a fist into the one way glass.

"Liar," she snarled. And then again, much louder, "liar!" Her fists clenched at her sides, she stormed out of the room.

"Where's she going?" Abby asked.

"I don't know, but I doubt it'll be good," McGee replied.

They didn't have to wait long to find out. Only seconds after she left the room, Ziva threw open the door to interrogation and strode over to her father, her eyes dark with fury.

Vance tried to protest. "Agent David, this is not the time-"

"I want him to say it again, but this time while looking me in the face. Tell me again how I am damaged and violent and ... and ... insane."

"See what I mean," Eli said to the others with a shrug. "She becomes unhinged."

Tony finally came up off his chair and got right up in Eli's face. "No, I don't see what you mean. After the way you've treated her, not just now, but nearly all her life, I think it's a reasonable reaction. Hell, just listening to your lies has made even me a bit 'unhinged.'"

"Ah, yes, Agent DiNozzo - her knight in shining armor," Eli said, then he got a crafty look on his face. "Has she told you what she is really like - what she has done? Somehow I doubt she has. She is not so innocent, you know."

"She told me everything, Eli."

Ziva gave Tony a sharp look. "And he has told everyone else," she gritted out between her teeth. Then she seemed to deflate, her anger seeping out and leaving her limp and hopeless. "I will have to live with what I have done, but you, Papa, how could you be like this. You made me what I am and then, when it backfired, you left me in Africa. And when I finally find the strength to change, you try to drag me back. Why, Papa, why?"

"For Israel. Perhaps if you would, for once, think of something other than yourself, you would understand that," Eli snarled out his answer. His face was red with rage and frustration and there was little chance of anyone mistaking him for a grandfather now.

"You left me in Africa ... for Israel," Ziva said in disbelief. "How did abandoning your own daughter to terrorists help Israel? Or was it just easier to have me gone? Fewer questions about Michael and the American op that way. I think you left me there because it was ... convenient."

"I left you there in the hope that you would finish the mission - that you would kill Saleem. Do you know who he was? Do you? He was the son of the man who killed your sister. The only son of the man who escaped me thanks to your reckless actions all those years ago. He took my daughter ... my baby, he even took my wife. I couldn't kill him but I could take his son."

"And lose another daughter in the process. Papa, do you know what that man did to me? Do you even care?" Ziva said through the tears streaming down her face. Tony laid a hand on her shoulder, wanting to comfort her, but she shrugged him off. Then unable to take any more, she turned and fled.

Tony started to follow her, only to be stopped by Vance. "DiNozzo, leave her. We're not finished here yet."

Gibbs came to his rescue after Tony directed a pleading look in his direction. "Let him go,Vance. Director David is doing a good job of incriminating himself. Ziva needs Tony more than we do."

Vance didn't seem to agree, but he made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat and waved Tony out the door. Tony didn't need to be told twice, he left so fast he nearly ran into McGee and Abby, who were now hovering outside in the hallway.

"Where did she go," Tony demanded.

Abby pointed down the hall towards the stairwell, her concern for her friend leaving her uncharacteristically wordless.

"Thanks," Tony tossed back over his shoulder as he headed off in pursuit.

"Good luck," Abby whispered to him as he disappeared around the corner.

"I think he's gonna need it," McGee added before he slung an arm around Abby and hugged her to his side in consolation.


	17. Chapter 17

Tony was pretty sure he knew where Ziva was headed. If you took the stairs down to the evidence room, you could exit headquarters through a set of fire doors without having to pass through the lobby, thus leaving the building nearly unnoticed. Technically, there was at least one agent stationed at a desk in evidence but they only cared about who went in and out of the evidence storage, not about a distraught woman trying to run and hide. Tony only hoped he caught her in time.

As he pushed open the stairwell door, he heard some indistinguishable noises coming from below. He hurried downward, taking the stairs two at a time and vaulting around the corners with a hand on the railing. As he neared the bottom, the noise resolved itself into quiet sobs, intermittent and muffled. When he cleared the final landing, he saw her on the floor, huddled in a corner with her back to the cold cinderblocks and her head between her knees.

Three quick strides and Tony was at her side. "Ziva," he said as he reached out a hand to caress her hair.

"Go away, Tony."

"I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. Let me help you ... please."

"You can't help. No one can."

"Try me," Tony said as he slid down the wall to sit beside her.

At first she didn't speak; she just sat there ignoring him as she wallowed in her misery. When it became apparent that he was neither leaving nor changing tactics, she finally spoke. "I always knew that my father didn't raise a hand to rescue me, but somehow, as long as I didn't have any contact with him, I could almost pretend that it wasn't deliberate. Pretend that he didn't know." Ziva took a deep shuddery breath and raised her head to look at him. "Do you know what they, what Saleem, did to me while I was captive?"

"I saw you there, remember, I saw what he'd done," Tony replied, knowing he was sidestepping her real question.

"There were other things he did, things that left scars you couldn't see."

Tony bit his lip and paused for a moment, almost afraid to say it. "Rape," he finally whispered. "He raped you."

"Yes. It was not as bad as you think. He was even easier on me ... after. Gave me more food, left me alone for a while." Then she closed her eyes, as if that could stop her from seeing the horrific images this conversation was bringing back. "I got through it by telling myself it was only one more physical torment. I even thought I was over it but now ..." she trailed off.

"Your father has brought it all back. But Ziva, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it means that you didn't really deal with it before and now you can."

"No it's not that. I told you, I got through it by thinking about it as just another kind of torture. Another slap or punch or cut. But now, knowing what my father said ... that Saleem had a connection to me. That he probably knew about that connection, that even if he didn't, my father did. Now it is more than physical. Now it is personal."

"Ziva, I don't know what to tell you. I can't even imagine going through the things you have. All I can tell you is that I am here for you and if you want to talk ... I'll listen." Tony stroked her hair as he spoke, wanting to help her but knowing he was entirely out of his depth.

Ziva wanted to stay there in his embrace forever. As long as he held her, she didn't have to face the wreckage of her life. But she knew it couldn't last. Not after everything that had been revealed about her.

"It doesn't matter. Soon I won't even be here and you won't have to worry. There's no way I can stay at NCIS now," she choked out bitterly. "Did you have to tell everyone my secret?"

"Tell everyone? Ziva, I didn't tell Vance. Hell, I didn't even tell Gibbs." Ziva looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. "Yeah, for a moment there I thought Vance was gonna fire me, but I still couldn't tell him. It just felt ... wrong."

"You did that for me? I know how much this job means to you, and you risked it ... for me?"

"Ziva, when are you going to understand that not everyone values you as little as your father? You are more important than any job. Besides, I was pretty sure Gibbs would punch him if he did fire me ... right after he finished slapping me silly, that is," Tony finished with a lopsided grin.

And that was when Ziva knew, when she finally understood what it really meant for someone to have your back. She looked at Tony, at this man who had stood by her through thick and thin, who had risked everything for her, and she understood. She reached up a hand to caress Tony's cheek, her eyes locked on his and then, at a loss for words, she simply kissed him.

It took all of the willpower Tony had to break that kiss, but he did it. "No, Ziva, we're not gonna go there again."

Ziva's face fell. "It is okay, Tony, I understand. With everything that has happened you do not want to be more than friends." She looked away so that he would not see the depth of the hurt written on her face.

That look almost made Tony lose his resolve but he was determined to do this right. "I didn't say that ... Ziva look at me," he demanded. When she finally turned her tearfilled gaze back to him, he started to talk. "I think I've loved you almost since we first met, since that night in the rain when you brought me coffee and told me about your sister. So the past two nights, even though I knew you were hurting, they've been like a dream to me. Making love to you is like nothing I've ever experienced before. Ziva, the earth moved."

"And now you do not think it will be the same," Ziva said despondently.

"No, I think it will be exactly the same. That is the problem." Ziva looked at him, confusion in her eyes, and Tony took a deep breath and continued. "Have you ever seen 'For Whom the Bell Tolls?'"

"I think I might have read the book a long time ago but I do not remember it well. American literature was not a priority in my life."

"Mine either, but I've seen the movie a bunch of times. Anyway, part of the story is about these two lovers with this guerrilla group during the Spanish civil war, and although they are doomed, they know that their love is special because sometimes when they make love, the earth moves beneath them. When the girl, Maria, tells this to a Gypsy woman, the woman tells her that any one person only gets to feel that three times in their life. Maria and her lover, Robert, get those three times but then Robert is injured and dies."

"You are saying that you don't want to be with me because the earth might move and then you will die?" Ziva asked in confusion.

"No, no. I'm not doing this well, but I guess that's because I'm no Hemingway. It's the three times that's important, not the dying. These past two nights, Ziva ... the earth moved for me. That's two gone already and each time you ran away afterwards. If Hemingway is right, I only have one time left. I won't waste it with the chance that you'll just do the same thing again. It would break my heart."

"So you want to wait for someone else." She felt as if her heart would shatter.

"No, Ziva. Why is this so hard for you to understand? I want to do it right with _you _and I think that means we need to start over again, at the beginning_._ I want to really know you, know what your happiest childhood memory is, the first thing that made you cry. Ziva, do you realize that I didn't even know if your mother was dead or alive until last night? And, most importantly, when we do make love again, I want to know that you will still be there beside me in the morning."

"Tony, we have known each other five years. How would we start over?"

"The same way everyone else starts - with a date," Then he stood up and pulled her up along with him. He took her hand in his and asked,"Ms. David, would you be so kind as to join me for dinner tonight."

Even though there were still tears staining her face, Ziva had to laugh at Tony's approximation of courtliness. "I'd be happy to," she replied.


End file.
